Grip
by Crystallia Silver
Summary: Only with you, I am able to experience a love as eminent as the sky, thick as blood and unsullied like the froth of Aegean sea's waves. Ivan/Heracles. Historical mentions are included.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: This is my first Hetalia fanfic. I became interested in the title about three months ago and I mostly enjoy its historical aspects as shown in several wonderful fanarts and writings.

Ivan and Heracles are at the top of my favourite characters list and together they form my favourite pairing [ By the way, I hail from Heracles' House ;) ].

Story setting: Chronologically set after the Battle of Navarino (1827) which concluded the Greek War of Independence. Heracles is currently hosting his Russian ally at his home.

**Grip**

**POV of Ivan **

_You don't suspect it and maybe it won't even cross your mind until I depart, but the truth is I don't want to lose a single moment of our time together. Any hours filled with your presence are precious to me, streaming like the clear water of a current - beautifully and fast. As I gaze outside the window, I am thinking that this night belongs to us in a sense, it keeps us in an unseen cocoon from which I don't hurry to escape. Until the sun wakes again, my dreams and reflections that know how to hide themselves from the golden stare of morning, can now emerge safely, revealing their true forms, exact colours and sharpness..._

_Sometimes, it hurts to see and then I refuse to acknowledge what's in my soul besides the unfathomable darkness. Now, I can't help myself; I yearn to reach and discover something brighter within me... Tracings of you, Heracles Karpus._

_It seems that the small movement I made to rearrange the long scarf that is always wrapped around my neck, proved enough to draw your attention from the book you have been reading, sitting on your favourite armchair across me. When our eyes locked for a few seconds, I felt no anxiety nor embarrassment. It's easy to guess what you are expecting to witness - me, removing this garment and finally freeing the covered skin. I assure you, that won't happen. No doubt, this particular habit gives you a strange impression although you have never commented it or ever demanded me to explain._

_I wonder though, have you ever realised that this simple piece of cloth serves as something more than a protection from the coldness? It is a shield, a means to hide the scars of a tragic past, deep marks that I cannot pretend they don't exist on my body. They are a part of yesterday but insistently follow me in the present... Traumas that haunt my conscience and I don't want anyone to know that. I don't want __**you**__ to know... Announcing the pained days of my life would feel like opening these wounds once more. They don't hurt, not physically, but neither they disappear. When I'm alone, I occasionally check the skin on my nape and back, as if I am about to witness a change. Nothing. The proof of my martyrdom shall remain there..._ [1]

_I avoid your impressive emerald stare, fearing I might notice a sign of compassion or pity - I don't need this. Then I think how foolish that reaction was; It's not like you can read my thoughts. Still, I feel that you are capable of great understanding, your mind can sense my soul more than anyone else I have met in my life. You penetrate into the thick, complex foliage of my being, not with the effrontery and violence of a thief, but like a clear wind that cools and purges. _

_It has become evident to me that your existence compose all I ever missed and sought to find. Once, I had deserted hope, yielding to a medley of lament and disarray, dangerously standing on the edge of madness. It is thanks to you and the things you taught me that I know how to survive and be strong. This heart that beats inside my chest could never be broken easily... And reminds that I am much more than a tortured shadow._

_You must have understood that I incessantly aspire to be a significant chapter of your history, not simply a passing dream or a nostalgic memory. Only with you, Heracles, I am able to experience a love as eminent as the sky, thick as blood and unsullied like the froth of Aegean sea's waves. I am warmed by a sun that pierces through the clouds - your presence. _

_Everything in this house -the rooms, the atmosphere - is simple and neat... Perfect to me. Because they consist parts of your own world, this corner of the earth that somehow awakens the realisation that there is another landscape apart and beyond the frost and shadows, inviting me to relish it..._

_Even for a few more moments, before I take my leave again._

XxX

[1] An implication of Russia's historical affliction caused by the Golden Horde and Tatar invasions. The reference to Ivan's scars is literal.


	2. Chapter 2

**Grip**

**POV of Heracles**

_My concentration on the book I am reading gets distracted now and then by an inward question that circles me persistently, ' How long has it been since I felt this intense love for you?' Memory takes me back to our initial meeting, an event that I remember fondly and in fine detail. It was a feeling of admiration at first, before it grows to something exquisite. I immediately recognised the kindness and generosity in your soul - it was easy to perceive and I am glad for all the time we spent together. _

_As soon as I began my journey to visit you, carrying pieces of my knowledge that I thought they would interest and benefit your mind, my whole being was already filled with enthusiasm and eagerness _[1]_. I was even willing to be like an angel to you and it comes as a mysterious twist of fate that you ended up becoming mine after some years._

_This is not a sort of bond that is based on dependence, nor I ever clung on your existence obsessively, expecting you to remove all the obstacles during my struggle to claim freedom. You were always the foundation of my hope for help, the embodiment of this quick-spread legend about a blond race from the North destined to bring deliverance to the subjugated; However, I never cherished the delusion that you were obliged in any way to come and save this land. I have learned to fight alone as well as I know to honour the friend who stands by my side. For a long time, you did all you could in your power to be my shield and stir my momentum. Like Francis and Arthur, you were there while I was going through the hardest and most critical opposition of my life _[2]_. Your presence was like a dewdrop of golden glint amidst the grey fog that used to surround everything around me for centuries..._

_I don't know much about your past but beneath this beautiful smile that calms my heart and erases any trace of loneliness, I feel that you are hiding an unspoken sorrow, a silent vastness of wounds that cannot be charted easily... Yet, I need to soothe the impact of any pained memory that you are able of sharing and heal it permanently if I can. Because I love you, Ivan Braginski... And I wouldn't ask anything in return, besides that you keep the core of your soul unaltered - gentle and unclouded - in spite of the nightmares that marked you. _

_It was impossible not to lift my gaze from lines of well-structured paragraphs and elaborate words when I noticed you repositioning the scarf that is ever worn around your neck. I don't recall seeing you without it, not once, as if the coldest winter follows you anywhere that you go... _

_You wouldn't believe me, especially if you haven't grown similar feelings of affection for me, but the only reason I hope to catch a glimpse of your upright, bare neck is because I need to imagine how it would be if I buried my face there and whispered, lower than the rustle of leaves outside, how deeply I love you. I'd like to utter these words in a manner that each syllable would reach your heart and spirit as profoundly as possible. I don't regret falling for you and I am not afraid. _

_You are exactly whom I envisioned to have beside me. The geographical distance is tremendous but it holds no significance anymore. And your origin does not weaken my passion, not in the slightest... We were meant to enjoy brighter days, meant to be with each other and realise that no matter the duration of the night, dawn never abandons her promise._

XxX

[1] A reference to the cultural conveyance of Byzantine theologians, artists and technicians to Rus' (East Slavs, predecessors of Russians.)

[2] France, England and Russia fought in the Battle of Navarino in support of Greece.


	3. Chapter 3

**Grip**

**POV of Ivan**

_No, I am not eager to leave soon. And maybe for the first time, I don't hesitate to fathom what is happening to me. This love that bloomed inside my heart is too strong and irrefutably honest to deny. I don't want to lose it or distance myself from it. Allying with you and fighting on your side was a blessing, not a forced necessity. By watching your own power and courage unfolding, mine were awoken too. And that is never going to change, I won't succumb to anything or anyone who might attempt to break me. Never. No matter what expects me in the years to come... _

_It's true that whenever things weren't going well in my life, especially during a time when adversity and hostility composed a terrible reality and the absence of a friendlier hand was too overwhelming, I always sought comfort in the memory of your first visit, up north, in my lands. Those wintery mornings and nights, a remarkable period when you, a kind, beautiful person with a bright mind, taught me the letters... You helped me have my own itinerary in thinking and expression, a unique style of writing _[1]_. You opened the path to a world which I could explore safely because in every step that I took, you were there to guide me. Letters are the foundation of accomplishing full potential. Knowledge is the greatest gift one can offer to another and you taught me with patience and courtesy. I wouldn't exchange these hours with anything else in the universe. _

_I wanted to have the same faith as you. I was drawn by its warmness, admirable light and this unconditional quality of compassion that I hardly ever dared to think it could exist, even in theory. There is so much meaning in this faith... It reminds me of you somehow. It has been an inspiration, an escape and a solace for a long time - a correction to anything painful. _

_There was this need to have something in common with you. Something significant._

_I relish the way you look at me, those eyes - deep green like the woods of my homeland - as they observe me when you suppose I am not aware. I have also seen you staring at my covered neck with wonder. But there are facts about myself that I prefer them to remain hidden; I wouldn't be pleased if you knew exactly what I have suffered... Because it would feel like carrying my wounded past to the present, when I am actually trying to save myself from it - this long-term period of tyranny and abuse deprived of all the things that any person with a free spirit longs for. _

_My fondest hope is that I will continue to be loved by you. The connections we have are more precious than I ever attempted to describe and the true essence of my affection always appears to be masked by formal statements and my impassive demeanour. Will I ever know a way to show it? And when I do, will you still have a positive opinion of me?_

_Heracles, this time I do not wish to depart with my heart locked. _

XxX

[1] A reference to the Cyrillic alphabet which is derived from the Greek one. It was authored & formalised during the 9th century.


	4. Chapter 4

**Grip**

**POV of Heracles**

_This land has been through a lot. I have seen and experienced much more disaster, death and bloodshed than I thought it was possible to endure. And you are the only one I have met who can comprehend what this means; I don't possess all the details, but I know your life has also been long tormented by a despotic and cruel grip. At the end of this struggle, I understood that no matter how broken or depressed we might become, somehow we still manage to keep fighting and continuously hope for the best. It must be that grain of divine essence that the Maker has instilled within us. Regardless of how a soul feels, there is an innate impetus that dictates it to move on. _

_I can't remember if I ever prayed for a miracle. If I did, then my request was not left unanswered. Isn't a miracle what we perceive as such? A sign that we are not alone? That's what you were to me when you did not hesitate to maintain important components of our shared affiliations __dwelling in our alphabetical characters, beliefs and culture, while I was still bound in Ottoman chains. You did your best, despite the personal challenges you were called to confront during that time. Later,__ when Arthur volunteered to assist me, I pressed myself not to await for utter fulfilment of my earnest anticipation. The raw instinct of self-preservation had demanded me to turn to the West for resources but my conscience required me to be watchful and responsible for the outcome of this war. In the meantime, it appeared that my mother's books __- the basis of my learning in the fields of history, science and philosophy - may were lying in dust for so long, but not in oblivion; Francis had brought fourth ideas and qualities of the ancient era when he set the foundation of his earlier revolution. It is also thanks to this legacy that he decided to grant me an honest aid in my cause. _[1]

_I learned something from all this; You are not allowed to lose hope or weaken your resolve when you have people who believe that your heart is in the right place. Because when they leave their home - knowing it may be the last time they see it - to fight for a principle or an ideal they support as much as you, that's the ultimate display of selflessness. _

_Ivan, you said that since the fall of Byzantium you have lived with the torturous concern of losing me completely. A loss that you wouldn't get over because you weren't even willing to do so and the notion itself invigorated your wrath. A kind of wrath that is frightening to anyone, but not to me for I found my redemption there. I only feel some fear when I think it might lead you to do something harmful to yourself... _

_Right now, I realise that it's not enough to determine the precise length of time marked by the truthful feelings you have inspired into my soul. What interests me is how I will voice them, particularly since I have no idea if you love me back, the way that I do. So, if I told you directly, would you think I request too much?_

_In any case, it would be meaningless to confine you into my expectations. You are free to choose your course, as I am. But is it fair to keep a secret that indicates whom I have distinguished as the one that walks a similar path to mine?_

XxX

[1] Classical Greek principles influenced French thought during the Age of Enlightenment as well as the Revolution which occurred later. These ancient, inspiring sources were France's prime motivation to play an active role to the liberation of subjugated Greeks.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note: Change of POV perspective & length for this instalment.

Thank you for the reviews and favourites.

**Grip**

Ivan Braginski had leaned his elbow against the back of the couch, supporting his head on one hand. He closed his eyes for a while, blocking the image of the desired person across him; He didn't really want to do it, but he couldn't think of another, more effective method to suppress the growing urge to make all his feelings clear at once, without any further delay. Losing control over his composure and reacting in a vehement manner was not a very rare behaviour on his part, but right now he refused to give in to it, his mind despised the idea of breaking down in front of Heracles. Because this brilliant man and the graceful way he had received and treated him all these years since their very first meeting, was an indication, if not a firm proof, that the Northern was not an obscure entity or a repellent abomination fated to be approached with suspicion; He was largely convinced that his own existence couldn't be a mistake. Heracles Karpus, the most noble soul he had encountered, cared for him and sincerely counted on his power.

Was intimacy impossible between them? Ivan believed that not. They were not strangers, not after a long, shared history which shaped a reciprocal trustfulness and a solid alliance consisted of much more than a need for materialistic profit. And while the capital of Byzantium enjoyed glorious and happier days back in the past, the two of them often interacted with each other, either meeting in person or sending letters and gifts. Each day composed a chance to deepen their relations. The letters they sent to one another reflected feelings of acceptance and mutual admiration, but Ivan always reserved the declaration of love from his writings, waiting for a moment that would seem as perfect.

That moment never came because war and torment arose up in the North, bringing a long-term distraction. Only when he became subjugated to the rule of Tatar, he realised how foolish it was to think that he had infinite chances stored in the future, discarding the ones at hand. He couldn't even contact his soulmate during that period, but he was hearing now and then that the eastern empire - which had been always an inspiration to him - was facing continuous adversities too. The news, combined with his unfortunate state, had made him mad with indignation and prompted him to pledge that he would remain alive, enduring any tyranny and wars, no matter what. He couldn't die, at least not before he could connect with the one who gave him everything.

The way Byzantium crumbled first, felt like a sadistic mock to him... It happened before the Russian was able to reform the North and muster his strength. The end had come earlier than the flurry of dark suspicions lurking in the depth of his subconsciousness.

Perhaps he didn't want to reckon the danger back then. It was too much to accept it. But when the downfall occurred, he knew that the disaster was real.

Countless days of incessant torturing by the Golden Horde appeared not to have driven Ivan completely insane in the end, but the idea that the only one who knew how to love him was enslaved by the Ottoman, a similar wave of oppression and cruelty, seemed enough to wipe out any of his mental powers that continued to remain intact. So, instead of becoming victim to an unceasing, inward distress, the Russian averted his attention from his fragmented heart and focused on planning the preservation of anything important and characteristically related to the late empire. He thought it was a fundamental action as long as he wanted the other half of him to be rescued.

Ivan had absolute confidence in that decision, however their common adversary offered an undeniably strong aggression, defying certain odds. He remembered a time when he worsened the Greek's condition instead of improving it, once encouraging him to an early revolt for which his ally wasn't ready. Still, the Northern kept on watching over the invaded land after the incident anyway. [1]

But to dedicate most of his attention to his cause, hoping wholeheartedly to fulfil it soon, was a certain impossibility as he became particularly occupied with internal affairs and distracted by signs of potential uprising in his own land. This situation forced him to exercise a closer supervision over the enormous territories. When the Greek fighter - who had not given up the dream of independence - made the decision to seek support from the West, Ivan felt both relieved and troubled. The perspective of an alternative alliance did not fill him with any sort of particular jealousy for he had no reason not to want the best for the Grecian. Yet, the notion that he couldn't control or predict the size of influence and demands from the new patrons worried him at times. As long as the actions of England and France were driven by a spirit of sincere philhellenism, Ivan was peaceful but the inspection of matters in the southern region remained on his agenda nevertheless. In the meantime, he had been engaging in war against Sadiq on constant basis, but felt very unsure about organising a second joint attack with Greece, especially after the treaty he had signed with the Ottoman. [2]

The devout subjugated carried on the resistance with unwavering tenacity but also suffered tremendously painful defeats. The more Heracles resisted, the more he provoked the belligerence of his nemesis which led the second to a dramatic decision, a crescendo of death definitely capable of crushing the rebel once and for all...

Sadiq Annan became vengeful and gathered an enormous armada, requesting his trusted Egyptian subject Muhammad Hassan to join him in the assault. It would have been the end of the uprising if the two Western powers along with Russia hadn't taken the lead in the opposition, united by the objective to establish freedom to its cradle...

It took four gruelling hours... Not many, but critical for defining the fate of one nation. The coalition that favoured the independence won the battle and a new hope for the future was born. Ivan remembered every single detail of this clash, because each second that brought him closer to the coveted victory, signalled the completion of the promise he had made to Heracles. During that battle, the concept of failure was thoroughly forgotten and abandoned, it even stopped existing on his mind or that of his allies.

The musing eventually led the Russian to the present. The emergence from the recollections was so sudden that an immediate and clearly raw anxiety struck him, prompting him to call Heracles in a hushed tone when he opened his eyes.

Much to his surprise, the Grecian was already there, beside him.

Ivan seriously wondered how he didn't sense his companion coming to take a seat near him. Normally, he would have noted even a slight rustle of his clothes while he paced, or would have discerned his scent - a warm mixture of cinnamon and mint. It appeared that Heracles' movement was too noiseless and as quiet and smooth as the way he had entered his life...

The master of the House was already gazing at him with a caring glint in his eyes and by no means indiscreet. The long-term protector enjoyed the moment, not hurrying to say or do anything; Someone else might have easily overlooked a similar circumstance, considering it simple and taken for granted, but to him, staring into the eyes of his love was an action of unique significance.

" You are tired, aren't you?"

That voice... It brought comfort through the sense of listening. So clear and serene, giving the northern man the impression that its sound alone was capable of healing any wound like an effective balsam. The gentle impact of concern shown not only in Heracles' words but also in his whole posture or rather his aura, made Ivan lower his own regard, fixing it on the place where he knew that if he rested one hand there, he could feel the heartbeat of his soulmate.

" Not too much." He affirmed and then added calmly, " Just to be with you like this is relaxing. I only became silent because my thoughts wandered to the past and you were busy reading your book."

" I am sorry, I shouldn't-" Heracles began to apologise but he was cut off by a beautiful smile and words that couldn't hold back.

" You are free now, remember? This is _your_ House, you may do what you need to feel comfortable."

" Right... I think I haven't got used to the idea yet. You know, it's..." While he searched for the continuation that would describe properly what he felt, his hand instinctively moved towards Ivan's and gripped the wrist lightly. In response, the Russian overturned his own hand so that he could touch him as well.

" It is like a dream to me." The pensive Grecian concluded. " A fragile state that is going to disperse under the weight of the reality I have experienced for so long. Of course, this does not apply to logic but the sensation won't leave me that soon."

" I know what you say because I have felt it. But this haunting burden has to go, Heracles. As quickly as possible, before it leaves a permanent scar on you." The northern defender said, his voice was hoarse from the emotion. He looked away for a moment when he saw tears welling up fast in his host's gaze. It wasn't a reaction incited by embarrassment - he was too familiar with the impression of pain to pretend otherwise - but a pang of personal guilt for not preventing his love from going through a horrible suffering. Eventually, he lifted his free hand and wiped the thin trails of wetness on Heracles' face with a careful caress.

" You truly are a blessing, have I ever told you that?" The Greek mentioned steadily. Ivan froze when he heard these words; They were beautiful but also hurt somehow.

" I don't mean only the support you have offered while I was captive." He continued, " I am thankful for everything that you are and I feel fortunate that once you used to reside closer to my region, making it possible for me to find you."

Ivan sighed quietly and then, without hesitation or abruptness, he pulled his companion into his arms. Heracles settled easily, welcoming the display of affection and taking in the scent of pine and fresh herb. His love's scent.

" That view is so similar to mine." The Russian sounded touched by the previous words, but had full control of his voice when he spoke, " Before we first met, you were already under the light and gifted with knowledge while I was lost, living my days without purpose and hardly knowing why I was here. But I started to understand as we shared more and more time together. I even learned to sustain and brace myself through very dark times; I believe that no one else but you could teach me that." He stopped for an instant, affected by the look on Heracle's face; There was a firm attentiveness, a deeply honest interest to listen to him and something else - a silent dedication that Ivan hesitated to define, afraid that he could be wrong.

" I am not going to say that I never tried to imagine my life without meeting you. I have thought about it many times, trying to figure how it would be like and... I am very unsure if I would have enjoyed a good fortune. The idea of what I would have missed scares me." Ivan asserted and then observed the crimson flames that licked and consumed the broad logs in the fireplace nearby. The Housekeeper rested his head on the shoulder of his companion, feeling the soft texture of the fleece scarf and silently directed his stare on the fire too. He appeared calm but on the inside, he was excited with emotion.

" You were not meant to be lost forever. And it turned out that neither was I. There seems to be an equality even in our deliverance."

The guest heeded the words but faced the one who voiced them only when deliberate fingers touched the side of his chin. He smiled, while the need to envelop his southern ally with as many kisses as the times he needed to offer them, was becoming impossible to ignore.

Heracles was hypnotised by the closeness and beauty of the person who was holding him near. The dominant feeling that stirred inside him was so undeniably true that begged his conscience to become known.

" Ivan... I..." All syllables came out clearly and confidently in a warm whisper, but the conveyer found himself unable to go on. His gaze was still fixed on the Northern's gorgeous eyes, but something insisted to choke the rest of the words.

" Yes?" He sounded so ingenuously innocent and nearly unsuspected that Heracles was ready to give up the endeavour. " What is it?" The Russian added in a more serious tone.

The preoccupied man smiled somewhat sadly and held his ally against him. The second must have felt either surprised or confused, but the thoughtful man couldn't concentrate on what impression he had made because he had just realised why he was so tragically, or rather, ridiculously hesitant. He truly loved Ivan with all his heart and soul, but when he considered the events that had occurred in this war-torn land, either recent or older, he felt that the words would sound like a sentimental coercion or a calculating flattery, being received as a desperate plea for further support masked as a confession.

Reckoning on the main kind of interaction that the two had developed during the war, as well as the matters of the newly free land that needed Heracles' full attendance, the Grecian was worried that Ivan could later wonder if his protégé hoped for a greater relationship just for the sake of personal purposes. Although he was always straightforward about his requests and the way he set them, the Housekeeper believed that he couldn't entirely prevent his supporter from getting the wrong idea in the future. And he certainly did not want authentic feelings to be adulterated with a false doubt...

The Russian sensed a change in the young man's mood but remained still, controlling his impulse to surrender to the passion he felt. He held his breathing when the man shifted a little, appearing like he was about to speak, " It's late and... I prepared a room for you to rest. You will be comfortable there."

Ivan frowned with disbelief - not towards Heracles' hospitality skills which were more than satisfactory, but towards this sudden withdrawal. He was sure that his companion had something else he wanted to say.

A real urge to protest flashed inside his mind. In the end, he decided to adapt to the situation while hinting his dissent, " Wait. _You _are going to sleep in that room. I'll spend the night here."

" But-"

" This couch is pretty much fine to me and the armchair where you were sitting previously looks very accommodative. I see no reason to demand my relocation." Ivan preferred not to be separated from Heracles, but he assumed that further companionship was probably unwanted and this caused him even greater frustration.

There was something intentionally mirthful in the way the guest expressed his statements, but the listener had become so concerned with his preceding reflections that he was hardly able to smile; He would have done it though, under different conditions. " Very well." The careful host said and stood up. Ivan followed the preoccupied man with his gaze, watching him walk across the room until he disappeared at the end of the main corridor.

The Northern waited, unsure what to do. Of course, he was still willing to show Heracles the actual depth of his feelings but would they be pleasant to him or would they seem like a burden? The former captive had dealt with oppression and compromises for a very long time and perhaps the unveiling of such devotion would feel like a trouble or an obligation to him.

" Are you sure you want to sleep here?" Heracles returned, bringing a thick blanket and a pillow for his companion.

" Yes." Ivan replied somewhat blankly. " Thank you for these."

" It's nothing." The man said calmly, looking at him and kinda felt disappointed as soon as he noticed that Ivan was avoiding further eye contact.

" Goodnight, Heracles." The Russian uttered as he stood up, persistently hoping that the other would ultimately decide not to reciprocate the conventional wish, proceeding to an alternative action instead, like forcing him to the nearest wall to kiss him - not necessarily in a chaste manner.

"...Goodnight. Wake me if you need anything, okay?"

The answer was a vague nod.

Ivan waited to hear the door of the other room closing before preparing for sleep. He turned down the oil lamp and slipped off his clothes, letting only his trousers on. Once his wounded back was uncovered, the man instinctively looked back at the corridor with caution before gathering the unneeded garments in one place. He found a cotton sheet together with the stuff that his companion had carried and as he spread it, he wondered wistfully how it would feel if they both rested there...

Without hurrying to lie down yet and while sitting near the fireplace, Ivan thought that he would choose the warmth of his love's embrace over any of his clothes or the blanket's. At least he was going to pass the night in the very room where they were finally able to spend some time alone and talk uninterruptedly. He exhaled slowly and stretched one leg a bit as he traced a complex shape on the carpet with his toes, attempting to distract himself from the annoying consideration that the following night he wouldn't be there with Heracles.

He eventually became motionless and lowered his head, focusing on detecting any small noise within the quietness that would signify his companion's possible wakefulness or coming back. No sound reached the young man's ears for a long moment, apart from the one that the logs produced as they burnt.

The Russian stared at his own bed yieldingly and finally slipped under the covers. For an unclear reason, he tried to stay awake but the accrued fatigue stemming from previous days filled with the tension of war, ruined his plan. His eyelids felt unbelievably heavy but even as he fought the exhaustion back, he could still relish the pleasant feeling of Heracles' words for him...

XxX

[1] A reference to the Orlov Revolt (also know as Orlov Events) that took place in 1770. Alexey and Fyodor Orlov were Russian millitary commanders who organised an early uprising in Ottoman Greece, preceding to the major one in 1821.

[2] Treaty of Kuchuk-Kainarji (1774). Included a favourable condition for the subjugated Greek Christians, but hardly promoted national freedom.


	6. Chapter 6

**Grip**

Heracles was sitting on the edge of the perfectly made bed, originally meant for his companion, staring at the wall like a fool.

The impression of Ivan's absence was overwhelming to him, as if they weren't inside the same abode - only a few meters away from one another. Even the sight of the closed door filled the Grecian with dismay as though it enlarged the distance somehow.

He couldn't help it; His whole body ached for the touch that made his heart beat faster and he longed for the proximity that always enveloped him with the certainty that the Northern fighter composed his harmonious half. Their existences were alike, yet totally unique at the same time.

His mind unhurriedly unfurled the reminiscences of how Ivan had grasped his hand, the depth and truth in his eyes as well as the exciting sense of his embrace while the Housekeeper held back telling him what he wanted mostly. All these mattered greatly to the recently free man and he fondly treasured even the smallest details of their mutual interaction, details that could appear as unimportant to anyone else.

So, the one he loved was there, under the same roof. A most pleasurable but not so frequent circumstance which currently haunted the Grecian with the notion that he was wasting exceptionally precious time, as valuable as each restless pulsation of his heart. Because for tremendously many years, these two could hardly communicate without restraints. It was impossible to explore the dynamic nature of their bond to the fullest while being unavoidably distracted, broken and continuously separated due to personal or shared problems which gravely demanded their attention.

There was still an unfulfilled coming together which, only in a time of peace, could be realised and understood by both of them. To stand against a common enemy had given them a common cause founded on a strong sense of unity. But to search deeper into themselves, to bring out their best traits and discover how profoundly their souls intertwined, was a challenge and a journey that had to be uninterrupted by exterior hostile intrusions and use of terror. Heracles believed that battles made one stronger and wiser, but their effects were also capable of misleading a soul from its true path at times.

Presently, the two fighters were enjoying a tranquillity of undefined duration and it would seem like a reprehensible act to let this chance be wasted and lost. Who could guarantee that they were surely going to see each other in person, more often than before? The map of their world changed incessantly and the boundaries were not permanently determined - a situation that dictated constant readiness for war and vigilance.

It seemed like the vision of a long-term peace was too far ahead, like the distant stars that shone upon the earth.

He raised one leg to position his heel on the mattress and leaned forward a little to wrap his knee with his arms. While he was still busy gazing at the limited surrounds, remarkably unable to go to sleep, another thought followed; It was similar to the question that occurred to him earlier, when he was trying to concentrate on his reading. Regardless of how Ivan would respond if he learned the actual extend of his companion's feelings, was it ethically right to pretend that he didn't have them? This devotion characterised a large part of his core. So, if he continued hiding this truthful expression to the only one concerned, wouldn't it be like presenting a false image of himself, a deceitful identity?

The Housekeeper began to walk up and down slowly, with evident apprehension. Previously, he could have whispered what remained unsaid for aeons. He didn't. On that moment though, he wanted to cry it out. The frustrated man gritted his teeth in bitterness, thinking that he really had a chance to show that the dearly cherished arms that enfolded his exhausted body earlier, truly composed the most beautiful shelter. Unfortunately, now he was leaning against an unreactive, cold wall.

He couldn't do much to compensate for his indecision, especially on this late hour. Although the setting did no longer appear to be ideal for any sort of talk - it was very likely that Ivan was sleeping, completely unaware of his host's frustrations - the Greek still experienced an unsubdued willingness to go where his love was. To look at him, if nothing else.

The young man eyed the door thoughtfully for a minute before grabbing the doorhandle to press it downwards. The corridor was pitch-dark but Heracles had no problem to go forward - he quickly adapted to the absence of luminosity. Very soon, he took notice of the distinctive light of the fireplace located in the main room and immediately felt a sort of encouragement. He did not hurry to step inside, but stopped at the end of the corridor for a discreet observation.

His most beloved guest was resting on one side, warmed by the blanket that covered him up to the neck. The silent intruder couldn't see Ivan's face clearly from the point where he stood. In order to ascertain if the Russian really was asleep, he carefully and noiselessly walked nearer. The carpet hid the slightest sound of his steps, silencing some low creaks that the old, wooden floor could produce.

He kept a small distance and revered his love with earnest devotion; His pale cheeks and eyelids shone with a dreamlike brightness, reflecting the soft, warm light of the fire nearby. The contained flames spread glints of gold and deep red upon Ivan's exceptionally light hair, making it look like it was graced with a surreal crown. His eyelashes appeared more dense, creating dramatic shadows underneath each eye and giving the impression of unspoken, fragmental secrets of sorrow hiding there. His lips looked more sensitive than petals of a newborn blossom and more luscious compared to the juice of a ripe pomegranate. The deep, rhythmic breathing was like a comforting tune to the wakeful Housekeeper.

He sat down on the floor, gazing either at the enthralling sight of his companion or the fire... Really, if he continued to focus his attention entirely on him, he would certainly feel tempted to kneel by his side and caress him. Would that be welcome? He couldn't know.

The fireplace needed more logs. Heracles had brought in advance some wood from the storage and used it. As a result, the flames whispered with delight, thankful for the added material they had for devouring.

He basked in the pleasant heat, especially since he felt his body shuddering a few moments ago. He couldn't tell whether the low temperature had caused this - it was a cold night in winter after all - or the nervous excitement that overcame him.

Closing his eyes, the young man concentrated on the purely refined sense of being close to his other half. Nothing else mattered during that instant and his mind was hardly preoccupied by any intense feeling of loneliness or fear about the future. He was peaceful.

" Heracles?"

The attentive host blinked in surprise as he heard the low voice which also sounded languid from the premature awakening. He straightened his back and turned to face the awoken. His heart melted at the sight of the beautiful face that was adorned with a meek smile.

" I wakened you with the noise I made." The young man hurried to say apologetically.

" No, I didn't hear anything. I just felt your presence."

They were quiet for a moment and then the Russian spoke again, " Why aren't you in your bed?" His question was spontaneous, with no sign of irritation or suspicion in his voice.

" Because there is a constant unrest inside me. I have a lot on my mind and even if I manage to rest, it will only be for a few hours. Sometimes I even hesitate to fall asleep, afraid that when I wake, I will find that my world is still under the Ottoman yoke - stripped from hope and deprived of autonomy. As I told you earlier, this freedom still feels like a dream to me."

Ivan shifted a little under the covers, without losing eye contact with his companion. " But, if you overexert yourself, you will break. And then, how will you find the strength to go on and confront any challenges that might come? If you really need to relax, do it. The more you know and accept your limits, the more you know yourself and more importantly, how to handle your freedom."

" You are always aware of what to say in order to hearten me."

The guest did not respond to that. Instead, he placed an outstretched hand on the pillow and passed it over its surface slowly, as though he was considering something.

" So, what will you do now?" He asked with a calm tone.

" I don't know..." Heracles uttered wearily.

" Just close your eyes and try not to think of anything; Block out the worries. It works."

" Ivan... I am not sure if I can succeed in that."

The listener was not daunted by the answer. Actually, he saw it as a chance to propose what he hoped for, " And if I personally see to it that nothing will be different when dawn comes?"

The Grecian was both thrilled and curious, " What do you mean?"

" I can be awake while you will be resting, guaranteeing that everything here will remain exactly as they are."

" To pacify my distress like this, is a most gentle gesture on your part. But I don't want to be a burden to you any longer."

" No, don't say that again." Ivan exhorted him. His expression suddenly became shy, but he pressed himself to continue, " I mean, look... You can sleep here, there is room for both of us. _If_ you want it, of course..."

He wanted. And he felt too unwilling to disagree, for any reason.

The young man crept to the couch which now accommodated two people. Ivan affectionately arranged the blanket over his companion and he didn't feel at all that Heracles had seized his free space - he was happy with this closeness.

The previously troubled Grecian easily found the most comfortable position, lying on one side like his beloved, so that he could also look at him. Ivan smiled when he felt a pleasant respiration tickling his neck and lips.

As the newcomer shifted slightly, his foot accidentally touched his partner's under the covers and while he was about to withdraw it, he chuckled when Ivan trapped it nimbly between his own feet.

" Kid..." Heracles uttered humorously.

" Yes, I can be like that."

" Actually, I am the one who is acting childishly. I can't dismiss my uneasiness by myself."

They had leaned their heads on the same pillow and this nearness, along with the words he had just heard, incited Ivan to extend his hand and caress Heracles' soft hair comfortingly for a short moment.

" You know, it is better to share a difficult situation with someone than having no choice but to face it on your own. I realised it's not a bad thing to rely on the person you trust... However, I am aware that I failed you before. Some decisions I made, did not result to the help that you expected."

" You did all in your power."

" I could do more. Once, I even left you alone with a bastard-"

" Shh, do not talk further about it." The Greek urged him. " There is no point."

" Right." Ivan answered with steely remorse. He stiffened when he felt his protégé placing a hand on his shoulder and burying his face at the base of his neck... The contact was satisfying, but there were small instants, such as this one, when the Russian was worried that he was inadequate himself for the one he had under his wing.

" I am not accusing you." Heracles asserted. His hand changed its previous position and the northern young man became a little anxious, thinking that his partner would locate and feel the deep scars upon his back. But then he thought that it didn't matter so much, compared to seeing them clearly under the morning light; The host couldn't possibly measure how bad they actually were just by passing his hand there.

That area was untouched because the Greek rested his palm close to the pelvic bone instead. The skin was not marked on that spot but the fingertips that gently exerted pressure there, made Ivan bite his lip to prevent any sound that could stir an awkward situation between them. This touch became particularly tantalising as it trailed the fit muscles of his stomach and eventually stopped at the smooth chest.

Heracles could sense his companion observing him closely, but somehow he did not feel uncomfortable anymore. When he raised his eyes to meet the Russian's, the silent yet fierce tension he saw, was breathtaking. It was impossible to hide from that penetrating gaze. He kept his cool, asking the defender something that really passed his mind, " Don't you feel cold? I mean, without the shirt."

" No." Ivan answered simply, masking the fact that he was tremendously affected by their closeness. " You?"

Besides his linen trousers, the Housekeeper was also wearing a white, long-sleeved shirt with small buttons, unfastened close to his neck.

" Neither."

The guest looked at him sceptically. " Then why is your breathing shallow and quick, as if chill permeates you?"

Good observation.

" It's not the low temperature." The southern fighter swallowed slowly and then he explained, " My breath is irregular because my heart beats so fast."

The Northern's face brightened for an instant, before it becomes shadowed by caution again. " Out of fear?"

" No, not fear. Not when I am with you."

This statement of course, conjured the question 'What else then?'

The Russian was finally sure about the answer, but he almost couldn't believe it was true. He thought of his life; What he had experienced mostly was violence, abuse and hostility. And this person here who composed the most wonderful exception of his life, was paralysing and melting all the icy shields which the defender from the North had raised in order to protect a heart that no one, apart from his protégé, believed it existed.

" Ivan..." The gentle whisper helped him break free from the thoughts that suddenly absorbed him. He sat up a little, leaning over the the southern man who enjoyed the feeling of having the body of his soulmate towering on his own. Heracles' expression became more affectionate as he raised his hand and held the young man's cheek for a moment, before moving on to caress a lock of light-coloured hair, " I was looking at this tuft hiding your eye and it's unbelievably ludicrous how much time it took me to decide to reach out and place it aside."

This plain phrase, which may not meant anything at all, somehow crushed Ivan's very last remnants of self-restraint. He bent down, a little closer, erasing the distance between them and his lips met those of his most beloved companion.

At long last.

XxX


	7. Chapter 7

Author's note: The following chapter was originally attached to the previous one, but I decided to break it into two parts. This actually helped me to enrich some scenes with more description or improve them. I hope you enjoy it and please post a review.

**Grip**

The kiss was no less invigorating than the first rain of autumn, not weaker in fervour compared to the sunlight at noon or filled with less need compared to that of a wild flower which thirsts for the early morning humidity.

Ivan had taken the initiative, entirely hopeful that his beloved wouldn't move away from him... And Heracles had let go of all his hesitations, surrendering to the undeniably trustworthy emotion and accepted the kiss wholeheartedly, baring his mind of any worry. The touch of their lips proved to be heartbreakingly simple and natural, so much that nearly caused tears to well in the Northern's eyes and forced the Grecian to experience a completely new kind of yearning combined with a raw bliss.

It was a resplendent unity, absolutely theirs, consisted of all the elements that composed their past and present - everything that brought these two souls together and all that stirred the same pain or joy inside them.

There was something transcendent in their first kiss. A deep sense that contained knowledge, understanding and a mystifying agreement, immune to the changes of time and era. An authentic passion that only _they_ could comprehend, meant only for each one's better half, no matter how far they were destined to be from one another.

Heracles consciously let his protector kiss him as arduously and hard as he ever needed, enjoying the warm pressure of the Russian's delightful lips, the frantic breathing that stroke his face and the arousing sensation of his tongue leaving faint suspicions of moisture along the bronzed skin where it passed. The Grecian was not late in his response, reciprocating the passion with the same determination, strength and grace. It was particularly pleasing to him that there wasn't a typical crescendo in their kisses - they interchanged between being fleeting and soft or slow and heated.

Ivan groaned with pleasance when he felt Heracles holding the back of his head with both hands and pressing his tongue against his own, evidently trying to advance deeper into the Russian's mouth to savour it. The man from the North welcomed the exploration, relishing the intimacy of this kiss. This also inspired him to search for other places, apart from the face, neck and collarbone to touch.

He was surprised to discover how difficult it was to keep his own hands steady while he moved them to undo more buttons of Heracles' shirt, intending to expose the chest. In the meantime, the southern fighter had passed his fingers through Ivan's hair, placing a couple of kisses on the man's forehead and slowly moved down to the jawline, where he nibbled playfully. He was cut short unexpectedly, losing control over what he was doing when Ivan traced his bare chest with a restless pair of lips and artfully gentle bites.

The offerer smirked, witnessing the effect of this endeavour and how his lover posed no resistance to it; Even the Greek's strong arms remained still for a few seconds, numb from the pleasurable surge, but when they recovered, they took hold of his scarred back, sliding across it. The Russian panicked for an instant, thinking of the deep marks he had been hiding for so long from everyone, but he suppressed the fright. He only stopped briefly, to check the expression of his loved one.

As soon as their eyes met, Heracles smiled and pulled him a bit closer so that he could whisper something to his ear. Dazed by their heated interaction, the long-term defender almost didn't hear the words or rather couldn't elaborate them on his mind, as though he was listening to a foreign language. Really, it seemed so strange to Ivan to be called 'angel' or 'helianthus'.

" ...I am nothing of these. To be honest, I can hardly relate." The Russian answered somewhat faintly.

" Even if you can't accept it, this is my sincere view of you. I wanted to tell you anyway." His lover's voice was tranquil and clear.

The Northern eyed him hazily before leaning forward to give a most affectionate and sensitive kiss to his partner who gladly relished it. This time, Ivan had full control of his hands and successfully unfastened the remaining buttons of Heracles' shirt. He eagerly expected that the owner would ultimately take off the upper garment himself, but he proved wrong. Instead of doing that, the master of the House gave Ivan a knowing, challenging look.

" I thought _you_ wanted to complete this task."

Ivan raised an eyebrow. " Oh, I do."

Of course, it would be very easy to remove the shirt that loosely rested on the young man's torso, but before the guest could extract the clothing with a single movement, Heracles grabbed the man's arms firmly and pinned him down, under him, charging at Ivan's body with more elating caressing. The Russian grinned, amused with the lively reaction and waited for his moment to captivate the luscious mouth of his passionate companion into a consuming kiss - the kind that could melt the Greek's resistance. For the time being, Ivan had to make sure that he wouldn't be driven mad with pleasure while his partner teased the pulse at the base of the neck with his heated lips and tongue.

The Russian had to struggle a little and he didn't mind at all, enjoying every second of their interaction. As he had predicted, his beloved Heracles really yielded to his kiss, carried away by the raw need he tasted. This gave the northern man enough time to free one of his arms and use it to strip his partner's upper body. His fingers eagerly ran across the strong muscles while his generous, passionate mouth brushed over the smooth skin, finding some rough spots here and there - battle injuries and bruises that still tried to heal.

Ivan made a short, yet critical pause in his exploration when his hand caught Heracles' waistband tightly. He focused on the specific clothing with a persistent stare before turning to look at the Housekeeper, waiting for a permission to an unvoiced request; A slow, careful touch on his broad shoulders filled the northern fighter with keen anticipation. The Greek's dazzlingly emerald eyes were thoughtful as he moved his hand lower, with the kind of concentration and reverence alike to a sculptor's when they are in the middle of creation, until it reached Ivan's thigh where it stopped. Then, a gleam of mystery clouded Heracles' stare and the line of his lips tightened with a sort of disconcertion.

Ivan was alarmed when he noticed this, realising that maybe his companion did not want to continue. When he anxiously searched Heracles' face, unsure what to say, the Russian heard him talking, " I try to take in everything about you; Every inch of your body, the way it feels under my touch, the sensation of its pulse and intoxicating scent. Your voice and the manner you colour the words that always know how to reach me, are precious like the wind. I am so sure that you are the precise half that completes as much as I am about the rarity of the colour of your eyes; I have not seen anyone harbouring the finest hue of the dusk into their gaze. I can't stop looking at you and surely, I cannot stop loving you. However, being with you always feels like a luxury that I won't be able to enjoy for as long as my existence needs."

A heart that is more used to the ice that envelops it, can easily collapse and break once it's warmed by true feelings. The warrior from the North seriously wondered how it didn't fail him, there, in front of the one who knew how to love him. It did not pour out of him in the end, but the tears couldn't hold back from falling.

Heracles lifted his hand and wiped them softly with a caress that could only be described as feathery. When the Northern's vision cleared, he was shocked to see the southern fighter watching him almost with nostalgia, as if his lover had already departed.

" I am not leaving you for anyone. You won't lose me." Ivan asserted. Regardless of how difficult his life had been, the Russian knew that he was blessed to share an unusually special bond with someone he admired and adored. The thought prompted him to utter the following words with natural easiness, " I love you, Heracles. I really do. You know that I wouldn't tell you anything that I don't mean. My flaws are many, but be sure that you wouldn't hear a lie about my feelings."

" I believe you." The Grecian affirmed as he smiled fondly and leaned closer so that their foreheads could touch. Ivan nuzzled him with zest and grasped his lover's arm when it encircled the base of his spine seductively. Ivan's body was still aroused, but he had to be certain if he was allowed to go further, " It's not the first time I desired you like this and definitely it won't be the last... Let me know what I should do..."

" Don't stop." Heracles answered forthwith.

The northern fighter gazed at his companion's face intently, in silence.

" I need you too, wholly." The pensive man confirmed in addition. " And this is perfectly right."

" Without fail." Ivan concorded eventually, keeping his voice down to the lowest whisper.

Still, it was the only sound that reached Heracles' ears on that moment, the only sound that mattered, before they shut out the rest of the world to devote themselves only to one another.

XxX


	8. Chapter 8

Author's note: I am worried that very few people actually read this story. This might be the price for supporting a rare pairing. At any rate, I make sure to summon the best of my ability in every chapter that I post, for any reader who will kindly give this fanfic a try. Comments are welcome.

**Grip**

A smile appeared on Heracles' face as soon as his consciousness proceeded to the borderline between sleep and wakefulness. His eyes were still closed and his body remained relaxed and secured into the arms of his beloved. Pleasant thoughts of their togetherness invigorated every part of his being. During their sleep, he could sense Ivan squeezing his hand gently whenever the Grecian made an agitated move, stirred by his usual nightmares that continued to visit him as afterimages of a pained past. Sometimes, the northern man would move his arm around Heracles' waist, keeping him close or alternatively, he would place small kisses on any point of the bronzed skin that was nearest to his lips. The Greek could also swear that he heard his companion murmuring reassuring words in a quiet tone, as a reminder that he was still there for him. Ivan's presence was indescribably comforting.

Their bodies were close, intertwined like a single whole, or rather like two halves, different and autonomous, yet absolutely matched and harmonised. The two men hardly worried about the fact that there wasn't enough room for both of them on the old couch. It appeared that they preferred to lie in that manner. It was better than being sorely separated for an uncountable period of time, frustratingly far from each other and unable to communicate as they wished. As soon as they were given the chance to be at the same place, none of them had desired anything more than to unite with their loved one.

Heracles had dreamt of this moment for many days and nights. He wanted to keep this feeling and their bond into his life forever. Ivan carried a fate that was largely shared with Heracles'. For a long time, the man from the North was someone whom the Grecian never wanted to lose, for any reason. And Ivan felt the same; The master of the House had recognised the Russian's reciprocal eagerness through his words, his many unspoken gestures and his earlier genuine passion... It was as natural and clear as any of their other shared actions. Everything between them flowed smoothly, in a pace that seemed right and encouraging. Although continuous challenges negatively interfered to that developing bond, its threads were never destroyed completely.

Admittedly, Ivan's embrace was really the refuge of the unruly Greek fighter from flurries of deep sorrow and disappointment. Even the mere thought of the Russian could soothe the Mediterranean male and calm his greatest concerns. Heracles also considered him beautiful in a way that he found very hard to explain in simple words. He actually mentioned it to him previously, during their lovemaking and in response, his partner smiled genially and leaned forward to silence the words with a series of intoxicating kisses. "_ You don't know all about me yet. Thus, what you see is not entirely accurate... And though I am naked in front of you now, I hold back perceiving myself through your eyes_... _I don't know why._" The Russian had replied enigmatically and Heracles' mind was too hazy on that moment to analyse what exactly he meant. "_ Long time ago, I was brave enough to take that glimpse. But I don't know if I am capable anymore._" That's how he concluded, somewhat sadly. The Housekeeper couldn't understand, not thoroughly. However, his preoccupation was not severe because he realised that in a moment when you let down all your defences and fears to surrender to an earnest desire, emotions and notions can rise to the surface which are so vague and thin in their essence, that they easily escape your grasp.

What lingered after those precious, intimate moments was a sweet exhaustion. It overcame their bodies after hours of restless sharing of passion, need and fulfilment. At the end, they both felt rewarded. Because they were free to be together and more importantly to be themselves. This limited time was an initial compensation for centuries of separation and harsh battles that the two fighters had to face on their own, for the most part. " You were here when I absolutely needed your support..." Heracles muttered, although he knew that the one he was speaking of, was asleep and probably couldn't hear him.

The master of the House thought about turning around carefully so that he could look at Ivan's face. He hesitated a little, not wanting to wake the sleeping male with his movements and ruin this peaceful moment. Besides, he was unsure if he was truly willing to change position while it permitted him to feel his companion's heartbeat... Ivan's chest was firmly against his back.

The fire in the hearth had ceased altogether and the ashes were illuminated by the very soft, bluish light of early dawn. Heracles sighed, his lids still felt heavy but he finally attempted to open his eyes. He stared at the larger hand holding his own. He could distinguish the ramifications of healthy veins on the upper side of a snowy pale hand.

The Grecian kissed the thumb of that hand and caressed the strong arm that held him close to the dear body next to him. After a while, not being able to restrain himself from taking a look at his lover any longer, he endeavoured to turn. It wasn't that easy because the protective Russian had locked both his upper torso and legs. Heracles also found that his ankles were interlaced with those of his partner's, in a tricky hold. " _As if I was going anywhere..._" He thought, as he moved slowly and methodically.

His eyes would have centered on the man's peaceful expression if he hadn't been distracted by something else. The light coming from the window was still dim and weak, melded with shadows which were able to hide many things under their veils...

Except of those scars.

At first, he was uncertain about what he saw and blinked in disbelief. He forced himself to sit up a little and as he focused his gaze, any small doubt he had, disappeared. The back side of Ivan's neck and nearly all his back composed huge, red wounds. Rough and deep lines stained the pale flesh and the contrast between them was painfully distinct.

" _I have known a life without mercy... I wish you didn't._" The indelible traces of battle and torture had saddened the Grecian greatly. The only consideration that managed to bring him some comfort was the fact that Ivan had survived from his personal tragedy. He was here and had recently provided aid to his Greek friend, proving how strong he really was. 

Heracles did not proceed touching any of the scars, not without the permission of the one bearing them. In any case, he already felt a kind of sincere affection and respect for these marks. Each of them composed a testimonial of resistance and heroism.

Eventually, he snuggled closer to the Russian and tried to concentrate on the low-toned sound of his breathing and his comforting, familiar warmth. He observed that under the morning light, Ivan's hair had the refined, golden colour of a wheat plant during summer. He caressed an unruly lock affectionately, while studying the beautiful face with thoughtful adoration. Then, his hand moved closer to Ivan's, the one resting on the pillow and twined their fingers together.

Ivan appeared to awake slightly, though his eyes were still closed. He feebly squeezed his partner's hand and murmured his name.

" I'm here." Heracles replied in a whisper. The Russian eyed him sleepily. It was evident that he needed a little more rest.

" It's still quite early. Go back to sleep." He advised with a smile.

Ivan wanted to smile back and say something to him, but before he could, he had fallen asleep again. Bad dreams often infiltrated his defenceless consciousness, but his rest during last night, had been dreamless and absolutely calm.

When he eventually opened his eyes, he noticed that Heracles was missing. The warmth of his body lingered on the sheet, indicating that not much time must have passed since the Grecian got up.

The invigorating light of the morning greeted Ivan. He remembered the sunlight of this land well. The region was graced with a brightness that he had not seen anywhere else, able to weaken worries and fears and replace them with optimism, hope and a reminder that one's soul deserves only the best, to be filled with knowledge, appreciation and passion, not the opposite.

He sat up a bit and looked at the blanket that covered him up to his waist. His torso was exposed and so was his back. The Russian thought that since Heracles got up before him, he should had seen what the preoccupied man hoped to keep hidden from everyone. The realisation itself seemed unbearable, like a heavy rock lying on his chest.

When they were together the previous night, Ivan felt mostly secured under the dark and it didn't bother him when his lover's hands occasionally touched his back, the place that he wanted to remain cryptic. It sufficed that Heracles couldn't have a clear, complete view. Also, he could tell that the Housekeeper was so immersed in their passion that perhaps he didn't pay attention to the tangible roughness. Or at least, it did not horrify him. Even for a few moments, Ivan himself stopped being self-conscious and behaved as if these marks never existed upon his body.

But now the situation was different. His secret was exposed.

The Russian grabbed the long scarf that he had left nearby and wrapped it around his neck, allowing one end to fall over his back. He understood how futile this was in case Heracles was already aware of the wounds, but to wear this cloth - even for a seemingly pointless reason - was an essential part of his life and existence. An inseparable part of who he was.

Therefore, he would have worn it anyway.

The guest rose to his feet and once he put on his undergarment and trousers, he tried to guess where Heracles could be. The clothes that the man had tossed on the floor were missing.

He walked across the corridor and heard a light noise coming from a specific room, which appeared to be the kitchen. The tall man stopped near the threshold and noticed that Heracles was busy. He seemed to prepare a meal. Also, his back was facing the doorway, so he didn't see his companion immediately.

The area was relatively small, but the Russian did not mind. He appeared to observe every little detail of this house, not denying the feeling of coziness it brought to him. Perhaps it reminded him of his old, beloved house in Kiev, the one he was once forced to abandon along with his sisters after severe assaults by the aggressive tribe from the depths of Far East.

Heracles never thought about giving up his own, rightful home -the one inherited by his wise mother- to his suppressor. He never abandoned the idea of freedom, even when Ivan invited him to flee and seek refuge to his northern land where they could rebuild the lost grandeur. The demise of Byzantium had been a terrible strike which awoke memories of Kiev's loss to the Russian and the idea of losing the very person whose existence was connected with reflections of a prosperous, golden era was too much to bear. Perhaps Heracles was once tempted to accept Ivan's invitation but his heart wouldn't let him. And the man from the North found that he was ultimately pleased that the Grecian chose the long and difficult route.

" Good morning." The smile and clarity of the voice that adorned the greeting, quickly drew Ivan's attention from his personal thoughts. Heracles approached and affably extended his arms to embrace his companion. He was shirtless like Ivan -wearing only a pair of trousers- and the sensation of bare skin being close to another, instinctively invoked mental images of their previous night.

The northern male embrace him back, still facing some problems to believe that something really happy was finally taking place into his difficult life. What happened yesterday still felt like a dream to him... A dream for which he was grateful. " Good morning, Heracles." He replied calmly.

The Grecian couldn't miss the observable height difference. However he didn't care when he had to tiptoe and stretch as much as he could in order to bring his face closer to his lover's. Ivan didn't seem to care either; He smiled and eagerly pulled his partner closer so they could kiss passionately for a few minutes... When they eventually pulled away, the separation made the Russian shiver slightly.

" I am making some herbal tea. I hope you like it." Heracles said as he returned to his previous spot. " Our breakfast is almost ready. Also, I must feed the cats, they have been waiting for some time."

Ivan nodded - their love for cats was common. He entered into the kitchen and sat at the table, choosing the seat closest to the corner. He was looking at Heracles. It wasn't exactly a simple looking, he was admiring the beautiful and strong figure that he held throughout the night...

" Why are you smiling?" The Housekeeper asked curiously as he glanced at him.

" I'm not telling you." The answer came with a teasing smile, yet the speaker was unable to hide the blush from his cheeks.

Heracles thought that Ivan was a sight to behold, on any moment. Either when they talked about a serious matter, or when he smiled or anytime his mysterious gaze was filled with a certain emotion.

" So, you have secrets from me?"

" Maybe."

" Hm, this is serious." The Greek concluded in the same joking manner. He poured some steamy tea into two cups. " Well, can you sincerely reveal at least one of them?"

" What would you like to know?"

Heracles was silent for a long moment as he stood motionless in front of the stone counter, staring at a plate containing fresh pieces of wholemeal bread. " When you return to your homeland... Will you still think of me?"

Ivan was moved when he listened to his words, but he tried to conceal the feeling. " You are asking a question for which you already know the answer."

" Right."

He finished the preparation of the breakfast. Fresh bread, honey and ripe fruits were going to accompany their tea.

" Please give me a moment to give the cats their food. It won't take long."

Ivan shook his head and waited for his partner.

There was a plain door at the back of the kitchen. Heracles opened it and the view of a tiled yard which surrounded his home was revealed. A companionship of cats ran to him as soon as they saw the young man standing at the doorway. A white, long-haired cat with clever eyes, meowed louder and more persistently than the rest, declaring his impatience for the food.

" I know, Fran, you didn't have many goodies recently. But I promise to get some fish for all of you, next time."

Their meal was a mix of boiled vegetables with rice. Although the location of Monemvasia [1], his current residence, was ideal for getting fish which provided the necessary portion of meat to the pets, Heracles was not always lucky with fishing. Actually, not him, or his people and their animals were fed with what they needed. The continuous battles for freedom had brought great poverty and famine to the land, the storehouses were nearly empty and there hadn't been much time to cultivate the earth.

Heracles put a few plates on the ground and the cats rushed to begin eating. Then, he returned, holding one deep plate and placed it on the floor of the kitchen. This was meant for the oldest of all cats and a small kitten which both couldn't compete equally with the others for the hunting of the biggest portion. He brought these two cats inside.

Ivan stared at the old animal with the long, gray hair and the white fur around the neck and tail. " Isn't this the cat I brought you from home?"

" Yes, this is Vanya. Despite his age, he is still a formidable cat." The Grecian confirmed as sat at the table, next to the other man. He stared at his own bread thoughtfully for a moment before turning to look at Ivan who waited for the tea to cool off a little. He spoke, " I missed you. There was a time when I was torn by the possibility that I would never see you again..."

" And I nearly lost you. Why do you think I pressed you to come with me back then?" The Russian told him as he placed one hand on Heracles' arm. The Housekeeper seemed like he was about to say something but the words were halted temporarily.

The two of them resumed their breakfast, not saying anything for a few minutes. The calm and freshness of the morning was reinvigorating, stripped from any atmosphere of sorrow or sense of loneliness.

" Ivan, if I had come with you, it would have been the end of my hope for liberation... When I am called to fight in order to defend my principles and integrity, I step forward, without second thoughts. This is my nature, even if it renders my life difficult and tough."

" This nature - even though it has some cost to you - and the knowledge that lies behind, is what I look up to. Don't ever change."

XxX

[1] Monemvasia is a Greek historical town located in southeastern Peloponnese. It is a huge floating rock (plateau), 100 meters above sea level. Its final geological shape is the result of a powerful earthquake which occurred in 375 BC. Previously, this fragment of land used to be part of the Laconian peninsula. During the Byzantine period, it served as the main headquarter of the nearby areas. The region of Peloponnese was also the first that gained its national independence from the Ottoman.

Catalia versions of France and Russia made a cameo appearance in this chapter. I was planning to add England cat too, but I think he may appear in a following chapter.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's note: England cat not only managed to get in this chapter, but also acquired a prominent part in it ;). This update took longer than the preceding ones because I needed more time to decide what to keep and what not. I wanted this part not to be particularly thick.

Before anything else, I'd like to thank the people who posted their reviews to my story so far - _moonlightgirl11, Happymood, espanamazing _and _Nephelee._

**Grip**

Although Artie was the smallest of all his feline companions, Heracles could see that the cat was special in his own right. He may not mewed persistently like the French cat when he needed to draw the attention, but tended to fix his gaze deeply into the eyes of the owner. There was something nearly humane in that moist, sophisticated stare.

On that moment, the cat was observing him closely while they were sitting out at the paved yard. Heracles knew why. Whenever he was deeply immersed in thought or turbulent, his furred companions could sense it. The young man smiled and rose from the wooden bench to pick Artie up to his arms. The pet snuggled easily, placing his small head on the comfortably broad shoulder.

" I am going to get you some milk tomorrow morning. I haven't forgotten." This cat usually didn't need much food compared to the rest of the companionship, nor was particularly picky about his meals. Milk, however, was important.

_Tomorrow morning. _The words echoed into the Greek's head and his mind lingered on the weight they brought. Ivan wouldn't be here with him the next day. He knew well that the absence of his beloved was going to be as piercing like the salty air that comes from the sea. He hadn't really prepared himself for it. Ηe was unsure how he was going to accept the man's departure.

Heracles paced around thoughtfully while holding the cat. After a few minutes, he stood near the thick, climbing plant that covered an entire wall of the house. Apart from this plant, the Greek's yard was also adorned with many flowers growing in pots and there was also a place where he cultivated a vineyard with great care. While he observed the wide leaves, he felt Artie squirming in his embrace. " Mm? What is it?" He turned a little and concentrated his attention on the point where the cat appeared to look. Heracles smiled when he saw a blue butterfly with golden speckles. He loosened his grip and the cat jumped gracefully over his shoulder to chase the colourful fly. The Russian feline who basked in the sun, lifted his head and as soon as he noticed what was going on, he stretched and joined Artie. The pensive man watched them for a minute, enjoying how these animals were able to distract him in a comforting way...

In the meantime, the northern male was inside to arrange his belongings. Heracles went to check the water he prepared for their bath. As soon as he made sure that it was alright, he headed inside the house to call his companion. Ivan was in the room where he was supposed to spend the night, standing close to the window that provided an unhindered, wide view of the sea. The Housekeeper approached with a smile and wrapped an arm around Ivan's waist. The linen shirt was covering the skin he had touched so generously during the previous night and the warmth was tangible underneath.

" I don't have abundant material wealth. Actually, I am poor. But whenever I focus on the richness of sights that nature itself offers me so unconditionally, I feel blessed." Heracles spoke.

" It's your rightful land. I have dreamt of this day when you would be free from your oppressor's rule and have your home back. Some stories are meant to have a happy ending indeed." The other man answered.

" Thank you. But I wouldn't have managed to find freedom without help." The Greek pointed out as he glanced at Ivan. " You, however, could accomplish that by yourself. Your own strength is enormous and that helps you make it through, no matter what."

" I am not always so certain about it..." The guest stated and his expression changed from a pleased one to a worried frown. He turned away to check the large bag where he carried his belongings. " You should know that you have _earned _that help from the Western powers. No one can have someone's admiration or friendship if they are not worthy of it... Also, if there is a reason why I don't always feel bad about myself is because of the friendship and love you have showed me. One cannot be strong without an initial inspiration; I have gained strength because I met you. You unfolded a kinder side of life. The kind that used to be unknown to me."

" Ivan-"

The Russian shook his head as though he wanted to indicate that he didn't require any response or expression of gratitude. The receiver of these words consented reluctantly, but his eyes still shone with an unvoiced eagerness. A pause of silence interfered and then a calm smile graced Heracles' lips as he told his companion that he had prepared some water for their bath.

The offer was welcome, but it was also shadowed by preoccupation. Ivan's upset regarding the exposed wounds, had risen to an illogical level. He felt more comfortable with the delusional sense that perhaps his partner had forgotten what he saw...

" Alright... You go first then." As he expected, an evident confusion surfaced on the Housekeeper's appearance once the visitor uttered this reply.

Still, the southern man retorted forthrightly, " I thought you wouldn't mind being with me."

Ivan looked at him quietly for a moment, unsure how to respond. He searched into this clear, emerald stare. Heracles wasn't a stranger. And the previous night, this man told him that he couldn't stop loving him. If these words were really true, if his lover was honest about what he confessed, then any signs of a traumatic past wouldn't affect his feelings. The northern fighter tried to persuade himself that he had to abandon the fear which burdened his conscience. Nothing bad would happen. Not this time.

" I don't. It's just that I still haven't got used to the idea that we are together. If you have dwelled in the abode of solitude for too long, you tend to shy from intimacy at times... But, regardless of any concerns I may have, it would be foolish to deprive myself of you any further." He smiled as he finished. And then his heart leapt when his lips were captured by a vigorous kiss.

The bath was located in a separated building, smaller compared to main residence. The place was simple, neat and the sunlight entered freely from each window. A sense of helplessness struck Ivan's mind for an instant but he was not further abashed. If Heracles had something to say, he would say it anyway. Ivan undressed, waiting to hear the other man's horrified utterance about the wounds, but no mention was ever made, as though the scars didn't even exist.

An undefinable confusion surfaced in the absence of a fearful reaction and the Russian couldn't help but ask, " Sometimes I wonder how can you be with someone like me... My appearance alone can remind you of unpleasant battles and unfulfilled expectations."

" I am afraid that these words aren't wise. I want to be with you as much as you do. Would you ever reject me just because a large amount of my life was not carefree? I think not. So, why should I do this to you? Our misfortunes do not count more than our good and happy moments; Actually, the happy ones remind me of you mostly. Because you know how to smile. Even when everything appears to go wrong."

XxX


End file.
